


three to tango

by badritual



Series: Exchange Fic [2]
Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Closed Door, Don't copy to another site, Mention of Baseball Labor Stoppages, Minor Polyamory Negotiations, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22683835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badritual/pseuds/badritual
Summary: “We can be there in thirty.”Ginny hikes her eyebrows. “Thirty minutes, huh?”“We’re in the area,” Mike says, with an air of defensiveness.“In the area,” she repeats. “Uh huh. Likely story.”“We know you’d say yes,” Livan chimes in.“I’m hanging up now,” Ginny announces, not hanging up.“Look presentable,” Livan says.“Fuck off,” Ginny says, with a grin.
Relationships: Ginny Baker/Livan Duarte/Mike Lawson
Series: Exchange Fic [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705675
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27
Collections: Pitch Valentine's Gift Exchange 2020





	three to tango

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harvestleaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harvestleaves/gifts).



> A gift for harvestleaves for Pitch Secret Admirers. 
> 
> There was going to be porn. I don't know what happened. If my brain ever cooperates, there'll be a smutty epilogue.
> 
> Shout out to my friend for betaing.

Ginny always feels out of sorts during the offseason, like her skin doesn’t fit her anymore, all itchy and ill-fitting; work stoppages are even worse because they _should_ be playing right now. Ginny should be toeing the mound, staring in for the signs. Livan should be crouched behind home plate, guiding her—she should be able to see his scowl from sixty feet, six inches. Ginny’s soul aches without baseball, without the feel of stitches under her fingers or dirt under her feet.

Instead, the owners and the players’ union are squabbling and it doesn’t look like things will be resolving anytime soon. 

Ginny doesn’t care for the business side of baseball all too much—she lets her agent handle stuff like contract negotiations, endorsement deals, charity events, and community outreach—and this is no exception. 

What makes it even worse is she hasn’t seen Livan in weeks. Ginny would never admit this to Livan—because she knows he’d never let her live it down—but she feels lost without his nagging voice in her ear nearly twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. 

Last she heard, Livan’s been celebrating his recent breakup by galavanting about L.A. with some Russian supermodel. 

Ginny digs her phone out of her pocket and glances down at the darkened screen, overtaken by the sudden urge to call Livan up. 

Her phone chooses that moment to start vibrating in her hand and she nearly throws it across the room in surprise. 

Ginny swipes her thumb across the screen. “ ’lo?”

“Hey, Gin, what’re you up to? Was starting to think you died or something.” 

Mike Lawson’s cheery voice brings a smile to Ginny’s face. It’s been way too long since they last spoke, too. Maybe she hasn’t been dealing with the whole no-baseball thing as well as she’d been telling herself. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s been a minute,” Ginny quips, stretching and re-situating herself on her couch. “I’ve been…uh. Vegging out. Watching too much junk TV and eating too much junk food. You?”

“So, Livan came by for a visit,” Mike says, trailing off with intent.

“Oh?” Ginny tries not to sound interested.

“Yep,” says Mike. “We’re both in San Diego. You free?”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “Of course I’m free,” she mutters. “Stupid fucking strike.”

“Hey, hey,” Mike says. “It’s for the greater good.”

“I know,” Ginny grumbles. “I miss baseball. I miss _doing_ something.”

“Last I checked, you were doing something,” Mike says, cheekily. 

Ginny huffs an irritated sigh. “Exes don’t count.”

“I don’t think Damon would like to hear that,” Mike says. 

“Damon can take a long walk,” Ginny says. She glances down at her stained T-shirt and ratty sweatpants. “Anyway. I need to hop in the shower and throw on something that doesn’t look like I dug it out of a dumpster.”

“We can be there in thirty.”

Ginny hikes her eyebrows. “Thirty minutes, huh?”

“We’re in the area,” Mike says, with an air of defensiveness.

“In the area,” she repeats. “Uh huh. Likely story.”

“We know you’d say yes,” Livan chimes in.

“I’m hanging up now,” Ginny announces, not hanging up. 

“Look presentable,” Livan says.

“Fuck off,” Ginny says, with a grin.

***

Thirty minutes later, Ginny’s showered, shaved, and thrown on a cute candy-cane-striped romper. She’s tugged her hair back into a massive bun, and applied a light layer of foundation and a modest swipe of lipstick. Casual, but classily so. Not that she’s trying to impress them.

Someone starts rapping incessantly on the door. Ginny traipses out of the bathroom and scoops her purse off the kitchen counter, before heading to open it. 

Mike and Livan lean in the doorway, both of them giving her friendly but mildly shit-eating grins before they barrel through and sweep her up in a group hug.

Ginny closes her eyes and wraps her arms around them, pulling them closer. 

“Missed you guys,” she says, finally letting them go. 

Mike lingers a little bit, leaving his hand low on her back. “You clean up nice, kid,” he teases.

“So do you, gramps.” Ginny laughs and pats Mike on the chest. 

“You hanging in without me around to make you look good?” Livan leans in and presses a kiss against her hair. 

“Just barely,” Ginny says, pinching her forefinger and thumb together. 

Livan _tsk_ s. “Shame.”

“You guys ready to get this show on the road?” Mike asks, tugging at his collar.

Ginny licks her thumb and reaches out to smooth it over his eyebrow. “Allllmost— _now_ we’re ready.” 

She just smirks and shrugs at Mike when he gives her a quizzical look. 

God, she’d forgotten how much she missed both of them.

Ginny has a feeling she’s going to enjoy the hell out of this visit.

*** 

The three of them get back to Ginny’s place late, with Ginny tipsy on mixed drinks and Livan disappointingly sober. Mike is belting out old timey drinking ballads, mostly sad Irish ones about unrequited infatuation and long-lost loves.

Ginny mercilessly shoves down the pang in her gut at that. 

“GIN!” Mike bellows from her living room.

Ginny pokes her head in from the kitchen to find Mike sprawled out on the couch with Livan.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothin’. Just missed your beautiful face,” Mike croons, grinning at her. 

Livan rolls his eyes and shoves Mike’s legs out of his lap. “That’s my sign to go.”

“You don’t wanna stick around?” Ginny asks. She hopes she doesn’t sound too eager for him to stay.

“You guys need time. To catch up,” says Livan. “Me, I’m just third wheeling it.”

Ginny snorts. “You’re _not_ a third wheel.”

“We’re a well-oiled machine,” Mike insists, reaching out and patting Livan lightly on the cheek.

Livan gently elbows him away. “Yeah, well,” he says. “Not gonna get in the middle of this.” 

Ginny emerges from the kitchen to join them. Now she’s curious. What exactly does Livan think is going on between her and Mike?

“Who says there’s something for you to get in the middle of?” Mike asks, sobering almost immediately. 

Ginny feels stung by that, but he’s not technically wrong. Their little flirtation never really went anywhere after that almost-kiss. That hadn’t done anything to smother the fire, but Ginny had refused to budge off her ‘no teammates’ stance.

But with the work stoppage, she, Mike and and Livan aren’t technically teammates. At least not until everyone gets their heads out of their asses.

Present company included.

“There could be, though,” Ginny adds, glancing sidelong at Mike to gauge his reaction.

Mike shoots her a wide-eyed look. 

“What’re you suggesting?” Livan cocks his head at her and puts his hands on his hips. 

Ginny definitely doesn’t notice how well he fills out his button-down shirt and slacks. And she definitely doesn’t notice the clean, crisp scent of Mike’s aftershave or the way he’s moved close enough to her that his breath is blowing warm against her neck. 

“I’m suggesting we take this upstairs,” Ginny murmurs, shooting Mike another look.

“Oh, you are, are you?” Mike’s eyes glow like hot coals, searing her from the inside out.

Livan rumbles his approval low in his throat. “I think this’s a good idea. Best idea you’ve ever had, Baker.” 

“I should kick you out for that,” Ginny says mildly. 

Mike leans in and brushes a whiskery kiss agains her lips. Then she feels Livan behind her, firm and solid, a hand coming to rest low on her belly. His mouth opens hot and wet on the back of her neck.

“You don’t mean that,” Livan mumbles into her skin.

“She likes us too much,” Mike says, into Ginny’s mouth. He leans past her and grabs Livan by the back of the neck, pulling him into a kiss too.

Ginny feels warm and secure sandwiched between both of them. She misses baseball something fierce, its absence an open wound that won’t heal and scar over until she has a glove on her hand and red stitches under her fingertips. But with Mike and Livan here, anchoring her, she feels settled. Less a caged animal.

She takes both Livan and Mike by the hands and leads them upstairs. 

***

Ginny pops into the bedroom. Mike and Livan are still tangled up in the covers, sawing logs. Livan has his head pillowed on Mike’s shoulder and Mike has drool trickling out of the corner of his mouth and into his beard. If Ginny were less scrupulous, she’d snap a picture for her Instagram account. 

She’s not an asshole, though, so a mental snapshot will have to do.

Ginny crawls into bed and squeezes between them, drawing their arms over her. 

“Just got a text from my agent,” she says, tugging on Mike’s thumb. 

He startles awake, snorting into Ginny’s mass of curls. He brushes her hair aside. “What?”

Livan’s awake now too, sitting up beside her and rubbing his fists into his eyes. “Too early,” he mutters.

“It’s eight o’clock at night,” Ginny says, patting him on the chest. She turns her attention back to Mike. “Tentative deal’s in place. Still some kinks to hammer out but looks like we’ll be able to get back on the diamond in a couple weeks.”

Mike tightens his arm around her waist, pulling her back into the mattress with him. “We’ve still got some kinks to hammer out too.”

Ginny laughs and pushes at Mike’s chest. “You’re a dork. Why do I like you?”

Livan wraps himself around both of them like an octopus. “You like dorks.”

Ginny snuggles down with them and pulls their arms back around her. Maybe she does. 

No, check that. She definitely does.


End file.
